


Bound By Something

by dryswallow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Happy Ending, Survival, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:43:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5019781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dryswallow/pseuds/dryswallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Clarke does not forgive Lexa right away. In fact, she may never forgive her. She may let the pain pass enough to interact with Lexa again but reaching the level of relationship she had with Lexa prior to the betrayal will take months if not years. The reconciliation is as long as it is painful; betrayal is not betrayal without things broken and love lost."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound By Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aeveee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeveee/gifts).



 

“The dead are gone, Clarke. The living are hungry.”

 

** Year 1 **

After three days in the forest, Clarke began to understand what a mistake she had made.

Hunger burned heavy in the pit of her stomach. It pulled at her body like a weight, drawing her limbs toward the ground and making each movement feel like more effort than it was worth. Even in the first days after the Ark had crashed, she had never known hunger like this. And thirst, too. She carried a small leather flask, one given to her by a Grounder before they had walked on Mount Weather, but the amount of water it held was much less than what her body actually needed.

Clarke reached out an arm to rest her weight against a large tree, closing her eyes so she could focus. She tried to remember what she learned in Earth Skills about figuring out her direction, about finding clean water and edible plants, but each time she probed her mind she came up empty. Wells would have known, but he was long gone.

  
Birds chattered high in the trees above her. To her tired ears, their songs sounded like taunts. Clarke took a few stumbling steps forward, listening as the air filled with the sound of wings beating. Somewhere to her left an animal scurried through the weeds, finding a place to hide itself. Anya was right – her footfalls were too heavy. She had no hope of catching dinner when the animals knew she was coming from so far away. Clarke could hear them scampering away long before she even caught sight of them, calling out to others of their kind in warning. Anya. Wells. Finn. If any of them hadn’t died-

No, there was no point in going down that route.

Clarke forced herself to stand and pushed forward through the trees. Ahead of her she could see a small river cutting through the forest. It looked clean enough to drink, so she knelt on its banks and plunged her hands into the water. Her body jolted from the cold, but her thirst was stronger than her aversion to it.

Clarke filled her stomach with water from her cupped hands, hoping it would sustain her until she found something else. She didn’t want to go back to the remains of the Ark – she wasn’t ready. And some of the others there wouldn’t be ready to see her either. Jasper most of all. All of them needed time.

Just as Clarke went to scoop another handful of water from the river, a shadow fell across its surface. She froze, eyes wide like a scared animal as she glanced upwards. A tall brown-skinned woman stood on the other side of the brook. From the clothes she wore, it was clear she was a Grounder.

With her knees in the dirt and water dribbling down her chin, Clarke became aware of just how vulnerable she was. She had a small knife she kept at her belt but that would be useless against most Grounders. And even if Clarke knew how to use it, the woman before her had a crossbow and quiver slung across her back. Clarke would be dead before she even made it across the river. Or up the riverbank, if she chose flight instead of fight.

Leaves rustled as the woman took a step forward, raising a hand in greeting.

“You must be Clark,” she said, speaking English instead of Trigedasleng. “Wait there. I’ll find a crossing and come round to your side.”

She turned and retreated into the brush just as silently as she had appeared from it.

Clarke put a hand to the ground to steady herself. Her head was buzzing with panic, overloaded with too much blood and not enough oxygen.

She could run, but she wouldn’t get far. It would be stupid to try. And the woman didn’t seem aggressive yet, so it would be even more stupid to do something that would anger or provoke her. The Grounder had known her name, and seemed to have been looking for her. That mean she was here for a reason, be it good or bad. Clarke dipped her shaking hands into the river again and sipped at the water, waiting.

True to her word, the woman reappeared on Clarke’s side of the water several minutes later. She put down her weapon in a gesture of safety, and knelt beside Clarke on the riverbank.

“How do you know my name?” Clarke asked.

“ _Heda_ told me,” the woman answered. “She was the one who told us to look for you. You can call me Adren.”

“Why were you looking for me?” Clarke demanded, trying not to show her unease.

Adren shrugged. “Our people noticed your wandering, and word got back to Lexa. All of the scouts were asked to keep an eye out for you. She gave orders that you be offered safe passage to wherever it is you need to go.”

“Oh,” Clarke said softly, puzzling over this. After Lexa’s betrayal, Clarke had assumed her alliance with the Grounders had been fully broken. Adren could be lying to her, but her behaviour showed no signs of uncertainty or deception – besides, what would she gain from that?

“So,” Adren asked, “where is it you’re going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” Clarke answered, choosing to be honest. “Away from my people.”

Adren squinted. “Where you exiled? Or are you sick?”

“No,” Clarke said quickly. “Neither of those. I chose to leave. It was necessary”

That answer must have satisfied Adren, because after that she stopped asking questions. She produced some dried rations from her bag and offered them to Clarke. Clarke’s face must lit up at the sight of food because Adren laughed, and pulled some more from her bag.

“Don’t eat too fast, you’ll get sick.”

Her mouth full food of food, Clarke was unable to reply.

Adren watched Clarke eating with a smile. “Let me know when you’re finished resting, and we can set out.”

“Are you going to take me to the capital?” Clarke asked once she had swallowed.

“What?”

“Lexa mentioned it once. I don’t remember the name she used.”

“Polis?” Adren asked, then shook her head with a laugh. “No, we’re not going there. I don’t think you’re ready for Polis.”

“Then where?”

“Well, you have two choices. I can lead you back to your people, or I can lead you to one of our villages, one that accepts help from any who are willing. You can stay there safely for as long as you need.”

“Am I not allowed to be left alone?” Clarke asked bitterly. “Is that not one of my choices?”

“It is,” Adren said. “But _Heda_ did not think you would be so irresponsible as to walk into your own death.”

Clarke was silent. Even if she wanted to protest, she knew Lexa was right. She didn’t have the means to survive on her own. And death wasn’t an option, not unless she wanted to betray everything she had been working towards since she and the others crash landed on Earth.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m not going back. So take me to the village.”

-

They walked for two days. Adren lead Clarke across fields, around lakes, and through something that looked like it had at one time been a town. Clarke had seen them in books on the Ark: roads bordered by houses with bright green lawns, each with its own box for mail. Their departure to earth had been too sudden for Clarke to get lost in hopes of what Earth would be like, but if she had been given time, maybe that’s what she would have dreamed of.

The shacks in the Grounder village looked a little bit like the houses in her books, but even from a distance, Clarke could see that their outsides were worn and dirty from the years they had weathered. She and Adren walked over a path between two fields, bordered by wooden fences that were bleached almost white from the sun.

“Don’t step off the path,” Adren advised from where she walked in front of Clarke. “There are traps.”

“Traps?”

“For animals,” Adren said. “Mostly.”

As they came nearer to one of the houses, someone came out of the doorframe. To Clarke’s surprise, it was a young girl. She waved her arms in the air, yelling something that Clarke couldn’t understand.

Adren laughed and rushed forward, picking up the girl in a hug when they met. She whispered something in the girl’s ear before turning back to Clarke.

“Lita is my sister,” she said in explanation. “She’s becoming a good trapper.”

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke said, but the girl didn’t seem to understand English.

“Do you know how to farm?” Adren asked. “Or to make things – to sew? Or carve?”

Clarke shook her head. She learned some of those things in school in the Ark, but not enough to say she knew them.

Adren nodded. “Then you’ll have to learn, if you want to live here.”

-

True to Adren’s word, Clarke was put to work in the gardens the next morning. She was given a tool by a woman who knew only a handful of words in English, who explained what she wanted Clarke to do with dramatic gestures, and patted her back to show when she thought Clarke was doing well. Adren watched from the shade with Lita by her side, occasionally calling out to offer translations.

Over a lunch of tough bread and some kind of soup, Clarke learned that this village was more than a farm. It functioned as an orphanage for parentless children and a hospice for wounded fighters. Everyone did their share of work, and was cared for in turn. They grew food in excess, drying it for rations and gifting it to bands of warriors as they passed through.

Clarke fell into the rhythm of work easily. She rose each morning with the sunrise and was so tired by the end of the day that sleep came to her easily. The skin of her hands grew calloused, and dirt caked beneath her fingernails. Her mouth wrapped itself around the blunt syllables of Trigedasleng, which Lita taught her by repeating sentences slowly and making Clarke recite them back to her. They would sit by the gardens sometimes when they didn’t need to work, trading names for the things around them: lunch for _sanch_ ; knife for _swis_.

Days became weeks became months. Clarke’s skin browned in the sun, and her old clothes were replaced with new ones, Grounder clothes that were more comfortable for working. She never forgot the Ark, the 100, the dead bodies piled inside of Mount Weather, but she did think about them less. The tension of them eased out of her body a little more with each day, and in its place she found reverence.

-

Clarke woke to hands tugging at her blankets. She could tell before even opening her eyes that the room was still dark. It was too early for her to be awake.

“Clarke. Clarke,” a timid voice said, repeating her name over and over.

Finally, Clarke lifted her head from her pillow. Lita was kneeling beside her bed, grinning so widely that even through the darkness Clarke could see not one but two gaps where she was missing teeth.

“ _Heda_ comes today,” she whispered intensely. “ _Heda_ is coming, we have to get ready.”

Clarke’s breath stalled in her lungs. The villagers had been talking about it for a while, but she had lost track of the days. Lexa would be here soon, and she didn’t know if she was ready for it.

“Clarke?”

“Okay,” Clarke said, pushing back her blanket. “I’m awake. How do we get ready?”

Lita took Clarke down to the kitchens, where a large stew was already being prepared over the fire. Clarke joined others in chopping vegetables, and dragging thick blankets out of storage to make beds for their guests. She lost herself in the work, until suddenly shouts came from outside the house.

“They’re here,” Lita said, tugging on Clarke’s apron until Clarke agreed to follow her out of the house and up to the entrance of the village.

Coming up the path through the fields was a small procession led by men and women on horses. From the armour they wore, Clarke could tell they were warriors. And without a doubt, she knew that the small brown-haired woman riding in the middle of the group was Lexa.

Seeing her was like a punch to the gut, but Clarke didn’t fold. She stood tall beside Lita, watching as Lexa dismounted from her horse and went to meet the village Chief. Her face was bare of the warpaint she wore when Clarke had last seen her but she looked no less regal.

After her greetings, Lexa turned to look out at the small crowd that still lingered around her. She dipped her head slightly in acknowledgement when she caught Clarke’s eye, lingering for only a moment before her gaze shifted again.

Lexa walked on a trail of the dead. Her life, and the lives of her people, were held up by what they had taken from others. It was a long-cast shadow that reached back years, a dark sludge that would follow Lexa around for as long as she was Commander.

That same shadow now followed Clarke, hundreds of bodies deep.

I didn’t have a choice, a voice in Clarke’s mind hissed. Lexa did.

This wasn’t true, Clarke knew. She did have a choice. Now that responsibility was hers to carry.

-

After having a meal and a short rest, Lexa and her warriors were brought to the outskirts of the village. A small crowd of adolescent girls and boys swarmed around them, all dressed up in ill-fitting armour. There were not enough practice weapons to go around so they shared, or made due with sticks taken from fallen branches.

Clarke watched from afar as one by one, they sparred with Lexa or one of her warriors. All of them lost, but that wasn’t surprising. They were only kids. At their age, Clarke was still spending most of her time outside class playing games with Wells. She didn’t have to worry about learning to fight for her own survival.

One of Lexa’s warriors began gesturing to the adolescents, dividing them into groups. Some were sent away, while others were brought forward for more sparring and drills.

They were being assessed, Clarke realized. Lexa was at the village for more than just feasting and diplomacy. She was there to recruit.

The knowledge twisted in Clarke’s stomach. A younger version of herself would have descended upon the training ground, demanding that Lexa reconsider her ways. But this Clarke was different; she continued watching as Lexa began giving pointers to one of the young boys, showing him how to keep his balance during a fight. His face lit up after he got it right and Lexa spoke to him again – she must have been praising him.

All of the kids in the village looked at her like that boy did, full of admiration and respect. Even Lita spoke of Lexa like she was some kind of myth. And in some ways she was, since she was _Heda_ , chosen by the previous Commander’s spirit. But Lexa’s importance seemed to transcend her role as _Heda_. She gave her people hope. It was likely that few of them knew the real cost of it, that the hope Lexa gave them was propped up by death and sacrifice.

Did Lexa see it when she closed her eyes? Did she see the faces of the people who had died for her?

Clarke saw them. Not a day went by that she didn’t remember the way the skin of the people inside Mount Weather bled as it was corroded by radiation.

It was something she didn’t want to forget.

-

In the evening, a fire was built in the middle of the village. It burned large and bright beneath the rising stars, offering heat to those who sat near it. After she was finished scrubbing at dishes in the kitchen, Clarke found herself drawn to its side.

“May I sit?” someone asked in English.

Clarke looked up, surprised to see Lexa standing over her. She held two cups of some steaming beverage in her hands, one of them extended slightly towards Clarke.

Clarke smiled tightly. “Go ahead,” she answered in Trigedasleng, and accepted the cup.

Lexa raised her eyebrows as she took her seat next to Clarke. “You’ve been learning our language.”

“It would be hard to live here for so many months without learning any of it,” Clarke said in explanation.

“This is true.”

Lexa sipped at her drink, staring into the fire. She said nothing else.

Her silence caused a burst of anger to flare in Clarke’s chest. Lexa’s actions were so polite they became patronizing. Here was the woman who kissed Clarke and then within days had sold her out to their enemies. She was sitting beside her, offering her tea like nothing was wrong.

“Are you expecting a thank you?” Clarke snapped. “I mean, you’re the reason I ended up here and not rotting in the forest somewhere, right?”

“I didn’t come sit with you because I wanted you to thank me,” Lexa said, even-toned. “I wanted to see how you were. A lot has happened.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Clarke said. “I wasn’t expecting to be brought here, that’s for sure.”

“I had no reason to let you die foolishly,” Lexa said. “And you would have done the same for me.”

“You sound confident about that.”

“I am.”

Lexa leaned in closer to Clarke, giving her an earnest look.

“We’re heading out again the day after tomorrow,” she said. “If you want to return to your people, you can come with us.”

Clarke tried not to gape.

“Tomorrow?” she repeated. “That’s a bit sudden.”

“I won’t be back to this region any time soon,” Lexa explained. “And I can’t spare any scouts to take you home later in the season. You can leave with us now or you can wait out the next several moons.”

Clarke breathed out deeply and tightened her hands around her cup.

“I should go,” she said. “It’s been too long. They’re probably wondering if I’m dead by now.”

The words came quickly to her mouth, but there was no need to second guess them. It was the right choice.

-

Clarke had expected Lita to cry. When she was that age, Clarke would have been sobbing into her hands after learning one of her friends was leaving indefinitely. But Lita just frowned and hugged Clarke tightly, whispering blessings into her ear.

They set out early, while the grass was still wet. Without a horse to ride, Clarke was left to walk alongside the recruits Lexa had taken from the village. Though they were chatting with each other in quiet excitement, she barely heard them. Her mind could only hold one thought: she was going home.

After two and a half days of walking, Clarke was starting to feel ready. And then, as they came over the top of a grassy hill, the Ark came into view. It looked unreal, jutting out of the ground and into the sky like a wheel that had been stuck in the mud and abandoned. She could even see small movements around it – signs of life. Her people.

Clarke jogged up to the beginning of the group where Lexa rode.

“I can walk from here,” she told Lexa.

“Are you sure?” Lexa asked. “It’s farther than it looks.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Lexa pulled her horse off to the side of the trail and stopped, gesturing to the others to continue on without her. She took rations out of her pack and gave them to Clarke, insisting she would need them for her journey.

“Thank you,” Clarke muttered, slipping the food into her own pack. Her tongue felt like a stone, heavy and awkward in her mouth. There was nothing else she could think to say.

“Until I next see you,” Lexa said. She patted her horse’s side, stirring it into motion.

Clarke turned, not wanting to watch as Lexa rode away. Instead, she faced the Ark and began heading towards it. Although she started at a walking pace, her legs pulled her faster and faster, until finally she had broken into a run. Long grass whipped at her thighs as she sped down the hill, nearly stumbling in her excitement. She would see her mother again. She would see Bellamy, and Octavia, and Raven, and Monty, Jasper, Miller, Monroe – the living.

The living were waiting for her.

 

  
**  
Year 2  
**

The Sky People’s settlement had grown since Lexa last saw it. Word came through her scouts, of course, but seeing it in person was something else. Structures rose out of the ground, bright and glinting where the sun touched them. They were strangely formed, half metal and half wooden. A strong fence was wrapped around the area, with buzzing and sharp wires wrapped around its top. And at the centre of it all was the wreckage of their ship, the thing that had allowed them to live in the sky for so many years. It was still hard to believe, but too many people had seen it fall from the sky for it to have been a trick.

The settlement must have been built with more than one exit – no one would be stupid enough to build a camp without hidden doors and passages – but only one was visible, one large door that separated the Sky People’s camp from the outside world. Lexa lead her small group straight to that door, making no efforts to hide themselves. Stealth played no part in her mission.

Lexa stood tall in the shadow of the gate and looked up at the silhouettes of the Sky People peering down at her from atop the wall.

“My name is Lexa of the Tree People, Commander of the 12 Clans,” she stated, voice strong and clear. “I have come to request an audience with the one who currently leads your people.”

The wind blew loudly, covering the sound of the discussion that Lexa was sure was happening beyond the gate.

Finally a voice shouted down to her: “Why?”

Any answer at all was a good sign. Lexa straightened her body before speaking again, making sure every gesture projected her confidence.

“I’ve come to negotiate,” she answered. “I’m here to talk of trade, and peace.”

Another pause as the Sky People behind the gate debated her request. Lexa could sense her warriors shifting restlessly behind her. Some of them thought she was being foolish and that her negotiations with the Sky People would end fruitlessly. Others were on edge, sure the Sky People would be hostile.

Suddenly, the sound of metal scraping against metal filled the air. Behind her, Lexa could hear her warriors moving to take out their weapons and falling back into defensive stances. She held up a hand, signaling them to be still.

Slowly, the gate began to open.

-

After relinquishing her weapons, Lexa was lead through the Sky People’s village. She took none of her warriors with her, as one of the Sky People’s guards had requested. Her warriors weren’t happy for it, but the Sky People would know better than to try killing her while she was behind their walls.

Lexa was brought into a large shack, and then through a hallway to a dark room without decoration. There was only a table sitting in the middle of the floor, with two chairs on either side and a small light burning at its centre. One chair was already filled, so Lexa took the other.

“Hello, Clarke,” she said, bowing her head in greeting to the woman sitting opposite her.

“Lexa,” Clarke said without smiling. “You look well.”

“As do you.”

It was difficult starting a negotiation with someone who didn’t follow any of the 12 Clans’ customs. Lexa’s eyes flitted over Clarke, trying to read her expression, her body language, even the clothes she was wearing. If Clarke were a village Chief, all of these things would be sending Lexa a clear message of how she should proceed. But Clarke was of the Sky, not the Earth. All Lexa could see was a carefully constructed armour. It was everywhere: the bare room, the single light, even Clarke’s lacklustre clothing. They had been designed to tell Lexa that she had no standing in this place.

Taking an early offensive stance was most often used as an intimidation tactic, a show of power meant to frighten your enemy and make them second-guess themselves. It didn’t always work as intended. Sometimes it was just a poor cover for vulnerability and fear.

“So,” Clarke said. “Say what you’re here to say.”

As clear an invitation as any. Pushing back a smile, Lexa began:

“In the past two years, my people have benefitted greatly from the demise of the Mountain Men,” she explained. “We are no longer terrorized by the Reapers. We no longer creep through the forest afraid of the acid fog, or of being taken into the mountain. We no longer struggle to survive – we are thriving.

“This would not be possible, if not for how our people worked together to take down the Mountain Men. Our success is, in part, owed to you. So now I come to you because I’d like to begin peaceful negotiations between our people. In particular, trade. We both possess knowledge the other lacks. It would serve us both to share it. Like you said before, we deserve more than just survival. Working together will make it easier to achieve that.”

Clarke was silent, her face like stone.

“Why do you think I- no. Why do you think my people would want to accept any offer from you after what happened before? What reason do we have to trust you after that kind of betrayal?”

Lexa breathed in deeply, collecting her thoughts.

“Clarke, please understand. I stand by my decision. It was what I needed to do for my people. I respect the past, but I am here to talk about the future. You of all people should be able to understand that.”

She flicked her eyes upwards, looking for Clarke’s reaction. To her credit, Clarke’s face had yet to crack.

“You must have heard my people speak of the 12 Clans, and of our Consolidation,” Lexa went on. “Did you know that the Azgeda are included in that?”

“The Ice Nation.”

Lexa nodded. “The same people who took Costia.”

Clarke was quiet for a moment as she took in that knowledge. She looked like she was biting her tongue to help her body ride out whatever emotional or physical pain she experienced. It was just like Lexa remembered: Clarke felt the pain of others like a wound to her own flesh. In a way, Lexa found it a relief. Clarke would not be herself if she could talk of death and loss without feeling it.

“I’m not sure the point you’re trying to make,” Clarke said. “What happened to Costia and what happened between us… they’re very different.”

“They are,” Lexa said. “And in some ways, they aren’t.

“When I was a child, there was constant battle because so many of my people were all separate. They hated each other – petty disagreements would lead to whole villages being burned. When I became Commander, I decided that enough was enough. We couldn’t live that way. I brought the 12 Clans together to give my own people a better chance at survival, instead of pursuing grudges that would lead us only to our own destruction.”

Clarke leaned forward, fists clenched in frustration.

“But our people aren’t at war, even though we have every reason to seek revenge on you. We’re getting along just fine ignoring each other.”

“For now,” Lexa said. “But as both of our people grow, there will be disputes over territory and hunting grounds. Instead of talking, people will fight. And they will die needlessly. But if we negotiate now, we can build a relationship that will prevent that from happening.”

Lexa stared forward, meeting Clarke’s eyes unflinchingly.

“I know your people feel anger towards me. I am prepared to bring gifts to smooth the transition: food, warmer clothing, other goods. Things I’m sure your people need.”

“It’s not my decision to make,” Clarke explained. “You’ll have to make your case to Council, and they’ll have to a vote on it. I’ll talk to them about it – we can probably get something set up by tonight.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Lexa said.

“Did you really-” Clarke began, and then stopped.

“Yes?”

“Did you forgive the people who hurt Costia?”

Lexa blinked, hoping her surprise wasn’t evident on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said softly. “You don’t need to answer that. I wasn’t trying to make a point, I just–”

“No,” Lexa answered firmly. “I didn’t forgive them. Their methods were cruel and reckless. Costia was precious to me. Blood can answer for blood to establish a truce, to even the score, but it will never make up for the loss felt by the heart.”

Lexa stood, gathering her things. Clarke remained sitting, staring down at the table.

“I’m surprised you came here to do this,” she said finally. “You’ve seen that we’re having a hard time. I’ll be honest, I think this is going to help us more than it’s going to help you.”

“Maybe.”

“So is this a decision you’re making with your heart instead of your head?”

“I align my heart with what my people need,” said Lexa. “And when it pushes against that, I do what I must to keep it from interfering. But I’m lucky, and this time I think my heart and my head are in agreement.”

Clarke’s mouth twisted sadly. “Lucky for all of us.”

Lexa ignored Clarke’s comment. Something was welling up inside her chest and she didn’t have the time to address it. This wasn’t what she came here to do.

“I have to go now,” Lexa told her. “We’ll set up camp outside your walls. Come call on me when your Council is ready.”  
  


-  
  


The call came shortly after nightfall, while Lexa was finishing her evening meal. A messenger from the Sky People was brought to her tent, looking irritated by the three warriors who walked surrounding him.

The Sky man was older than her, with messy black hair and a large gun hanging from a strap slung over his shoulder.

“I’m here to escort you,” he said. “They’d prefer you come alone again, unless you need someone else to help you speak. No weapons, same as last time.”

“I’ll go alone,” Lexa told him, signalling to her warriors that they could take their leave. None of them did, instead choosing to linger around the tent until Lexa had finished her meal and was ready to follow the man back to the settlement.

The Sky man walked quickly down the hill towards the gate, barely glancing behind him to make sure Lexa was following. If his brusqueness was meant to send a message, she was hearing it loud and clear.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Bellamy. You don’t need to introduce yourself.”

“Very well,” she said.

Bellamy – the name was familiar. But Lexa had no time to dwell on it. She was brought to a different building than she was in before, this one much sturdier than the first. Inside the Sky People’s Council was waiting for her, sitting around a table with expressions of apprehension on their faces. All of them looker thinner than she expected. The fight for survival was taking its toll.

Sure and steady, Lexa told the Council the same things she had told Clarke. It was easy to do because she knew every word that came out of her mouth. Unlike the Sky People, who had only recently fallen back to Earth and seemed naïve to the sacrifices required by survival, she had lived through all of it.

Once she was finished speaking, Lexa was asked to wait in the hallway. A guard stood watching her

Finally, the door to the meeting room opened and Clarke stepped out. Lexa was struck by how tired she looked. The skin around her eyes seemed darker, and her shoulders slumped forwards when she walked.

“We’ve made our decision,” Clarke said, and gestured for Lexa to follow her.

The older woman who looked like Clarke was the one who spoke on behalf of the Council, glancing at the others for objections before she did so.

“The Council has voted by a _narrow_ margin to accept your request for negotiations,” she said. “And we agreeing only to open negotiations with you. Whether anything comes of them will depend on what exactly you’re proposing.”

“Thank you,” Lexa said, bowing her head slightly in respect. “When would you like negotiations to start?”

“We might as well start tomorrow,” said a man on the other end of the table. “Since you’re already here. Go back to your camp for the night – we’ll send for you again in the morning.”

She shook the hands of each Council member, which seemed to be their ritual of agreement. She forced herself not to hesitate when she came to Clarke, who met her eyes firmly. Her hands were warm and calloused, and there was dirt beneath her nails. She had become the kind of leader who worked alongside her people.

Lexa set off towards the camp with her head held high. The night air smelled cool and full of life; it was a sign of good things to come.

 

 

  
**  
Year 3  
**

“Your people are still arrogant,” Lexa said. “They think they know more of our world than we do.”

Clarke watched as Lexa paced the inside of the tent, her shoulders held tight with irritation. Another fight had broken out between a Grounder and one of the people from the Ark because of a disagreement or poorly handled trade. It was the third fight in the past two months, and though no one had been badly hurt, tensions were rising.

“It’s their world too now, Lexa,” Clarke tried, but Lexa didn’t acknowledge her.

“My traders say your people devalue our goods and knowledge.”

“I know,” Clarke said. “And mine say that your people are rude and ignorant. We’ve got to be able to meet in the middle somehow.”

When Lexa turned to face her, Clarke felt almost overwhelmed by the force of Lexa’s presence. Her eyes burned the way they had during their first meetings, when Clarke was still trying her hardest to win Lexa’s trust.

“I want to keep relations between our people peaceful,” Lexa said. “But my people feel they’ve been wronged. I doubt they will want to meet yours in the middle.”

“Then what do we do about this?” Clarke asked.

Lexa folded her arms, considering the question.

“What stories do your people tell of the war that nearly destroyed us?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“When you grew up, your guardians must have told you something about it. What stories did they tell you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by stories,” Clarke said. “We learned about what happened in school.”

“School?” Lexa asked, but Clarke waved her question away.

“It’s not important. Anyway, we learned that there was a nuclear war 100 years ago. Countries started bombing each other, destroying everything and everyone they could. And even after the war was over, the Earth was still sick because the bombs had released lethal amounts of radiation. It’s – invisible stuff in the environment that hurts you, makes you sick. It was why the Mountain Men couldn’t leave Mount Weather, and why we were surprised to find anyone alive after we came back down to Earth.

“Does that answer your question?”

Lexa was watching her curiously. “More or less,” she replied.

“So?”

“Your storytellers know nothing about what really happened. The world burned, Clarke. I didn’t see it with my own eyes, but my past selves – the previous Commanders – one of them must have seen it. The fires lasted for moons, maybe years. Not here, where we live, but to the South, and over the seas as well. Some places are still wasteland, hardly anything can live there. This is the world we have lived with.

“It’s our home. Your people can call it their home, and I won’t dispute that is, but we have grown with this world in a way you have not. You must know, after living with us for so long. Your people learned from books on their wheel in the sky and thought they possessed all the knowledge there was. Now you blame us because you can’t get the seeds we gave you to grow and you can’t admit we could possibly know something you don’t.”

Lexa’s words hit hard, but they were true. Clarke had heard the way some of the people from the Ark talked while around the trading post that had been set up outside of their settlement.

She sighed. “You’re right. I’ll – I’ll talk to my people. I don’t know if they’ll get it, but I’ll try. We’ll hold a meeting with the traders, and I’ll bring it up with Council too.”

“I appreciate it,” Lexa said. Some of the seriousness lifted from her face. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Leadership. Making decisions and plans for your people. Bringing them together.”

Clarke shrugged. “I guess you could say I enjoy it. Most of the time it just feels like something I need to do. I have to take responsibility for all… all of it.”

The expression on Lexa’s face changed, giving her an air of sympathy.

“You are doing good things for your people,” she said earnestly. “You lead them well.”

The compliment felt strange coming from Lexa. Clarke tried to let it fall off of her, the way she has seen water slide off the feathers of geese as they paddled by on the lake. But she could feel it sticking.

“Thanks,” she said. She shifted her weight from leg to leg, thinking something over.

“So, how long are you staying this time?” she asked.

Lexa looked up, as if surprised by the question.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Other than the fights here, things have been calm. I have no pressing obligations.”

“Then do you want to take a walk with me?”

Lexa paused, considering the offer. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said. “Or later tonight, before the sun sets.”

“Now is fine.”

“Okay,” Clarke said, a bit stunned. She hadn’t expected Lexa to accept her offer so easily.

“Okay,” she repeated. “Cool. Let’s go.”

-

The summer air was hotter than Clarke had anticipated. As she and Lexa hiked over the base of the mountain, she could feel the heaviness of the sweat that gathered beneath her arms and between her breasts.

“Are we looking for something?” Lexa asked from behind her.

“Sort of,” Clarke returned. “I can already see it.”

“Where?”

Clarke pointed ahead at a patch of bushes growing in the shade. Small dark-coloured berries grew in clumps, full and ripe. Blackberries, according to one of the women from the Ark who specialized in agriculture.

Once they reached the bushes, Lexa stepped past the thorns to begin plucking berries. She picked them quickly, depositing most of them directly into her mouth. It struck Clarke as somehow childlike, and she found herself smiling.

Clarke lowered her body down onto the moss, grateful for the chance to rest. After her hands grew full with blackberries, Lexa joined her.

She held out a hand, offering Clarke some to eat.

“Thank you,” Clarke said softly, and scooped them out of Lexa’s palm. Their juices left purple smudges across her skin.

“Have you seen any of the red ones around here?” Lexa asked.

“There are a few bushes,” Clarke answered. “You mean raspberries, right?”

“Maybe,” Lexa said. “We call them something else. I like them more, they’re sweeter.”

She dropped her head down onto the moss, using one of her arms as a pillow. She glanced over at Clarke, and then up at the trees above them. Unlike her mother and her friends, Lexa never looked at her with pity. She always came at Clarke head-on, seeing her for all that she was, and it made Clarke feel a sense of comfort in herself that she found nowhere else.

“You look relaxed,” Clarke commented.

“I am.”

“That’s good,” Clarke said. “Bellamy said he didn’t think it was possible for you to relax. That you’re too uptight.”

“Bellamy doesn’t know me,” Lexa said.

“Yeah, but I do.”

Surprisingly, Lexa didn’t object to this claim. She only flickered her eyes at Clarke curiously and went back to lounging on the moss. Because of the hot weather and her current lack of enemies, Lexa had gone without armour that day. She wore a thin short that fit snugly over her middle and left her shoulders and arms bare. Clarke felt her eyes drawn to the shape of Lexa’s body, the warm colour of her skin.

It would be easy to for her to kiss Lexa. They were close enough, and it felt right. But Clarke pulled herself back.

Not yet.

“Maybe Bellamy isn’t all wrong,” Lexa said, her body shifting.

“Yeah? Why?”

“It can be difficult to relax. Inside me, the soul of the Commander is still restless. She’s always… nervous. Vigilant. She has to be, for her people, because she exists for the purpose of their survival. It can make her act heartlessly."

Lexa looked up at Clarke, her eyes wide and serious.

“For my people, I can’t regret the decisions I have made. But for you, Clarke, I’m sorry.”

Clarke’s mouth had gone dry. “Why are you bringing this up now?” she asked.

“It’s been weighing on my mind lately, since I’ve been seeing more of you and your people. I wanted to tell you.”

An old pain was splitting open inside of Clarke. When she opened her mouth to speak, she found that her throat had become tight and sore, choking the words.

“It’s in the past now,” she managed.

“But it shapes our future,” Lexa said. “I don’t want to be the kind of leader who refuses to learn and change. If I stayed the same, I would become brittle. I would fail my people. And that is the one thing I cannot do, regardless of what it takes from me.”

“We bear it so they don’t have to, right?” Clarke shook her head.

“Clarke…”

“I’m not going to say I forgive you. Because I don’t, and I don’t know if I ever will. But for what it’s worth, I understand. I don’t know how much you’ve heard about what happened in Mount Weather, but I did things that I don’t want to be forgiven for. I had to do them. I wouldn’t change it. But…”

Her voice cut out.

Beside her, Lexa was waiting, listening with intensity. The look on her face was different, more vulnerable than Clarke had ever seen before. Right now she was Lexa, not _Heda_.

“I accept that,” Lexa said. “I meant what I said earlier, Clarke. You are leading your people well.”

Clarke let her body fall back onto the mossy forest floor. A memory came to her: like everyone on the Ark, she would sometimes linger at one of the portholes to look at the Earth down below and imagine what it would be like to go home. She remembered her mother explaining to her how the Earth was always moving, spinning around the sun without ever escaping its gravity.

Body pressed to the earth, Clarke tried to feel it moving.

Nothing.

But beneath the sound of the wind and the birds above them, she could hear the steady rhythm of Lexa’s breathing. She turned herself to the side so that her forehead pressed to the firm muscle of Lexa’s shoulder. Cautiously, Lexa moved one of her arms so that her hand could rest on Clarke’s waist. It felt warm, and safe – like protection.

They stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon, their bodies covered in shadow.

 

 

  
**  
Year 4  
**

Lexa was waiting. No, waiting was probably the wrong word. There was one word that almost described it, a Trigedasleng word that evoked a the image of warrior who was keeping her distance while watching her opponent, her body relaxed and still although she was ready to move at any moment. But even that was wrong because Clarke wasn’t her opponent.

So Lexa waited, and she watched. She took note of the way Clarke would gravitate towards her, coming close but usually not close enough to touch her. And when Clarke did touch her, every moment of it felt full of intention. It wasn’t like Clarke to be careless – she knew what she doing. Maybe she was waiting too.

There were times that Lexa wanted to kiss Clarke, or ask to be kissed, but she held herself back. It was Clarke’s move to make. She would wait.

Her waiting came to an end one night in Clarke’s bedroom at the Sky People’s settlement. She had been visiting to assist with territory divisions, but ended up convincing Clarke to spend the evening with her playing one of the games she had played growing up, played with rocks and a piece of dyed cloth. They sat across from one another on Clarke’s small bed, playing round after round until Clarke had finally gotten familiar with the game.

“This is just Checkers but with different rules,” Clarke said, after finally winning a set.

“What’s Checkers?”

“An old Earth game,” Clarke said, scooping the pieces back into their bag. “I should teach you Chess, if we can find a set. I’m sure you’d like it. It’s a strategy game, kind of like this one but with different pieces.”

“Show me sometime.”

“I will,” promised Clarke. She smiled, but her smile wasn’t directed at Lexa.

“I’m glad you still come by here,” she said, changing the subject. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

“It would be irresponsible if I didn’t, after I convinced your people to open themselves to trade.”

“I mean that you could delegate that to someone else, if you wanted,” Clarke said.

“Obviously, I prefer coming myself,” Lexa said. Then, playing to Clarke’s bait, she added: “And I like seeing you.”

Clarke smiled – it was clearly what she had wanted to hear.

“Come here,” she said, voice low.

Lexa did as she was asked, moving until she was sitting close that her thighs pressed against Clarke’s. It was an invitation, as clear as any she had given Clarke before.  
Clarke lifted a hand to Lexa’s temple, pushing stray hair back from her eyes. Her fingers moved over Lexa’s cheek until her thumb came to Lexa’s lips. Then, when Lexa didn’t stop her, Clarke leaned forward to kiss her.

Her lips moved slowly over Lexa’s, mirroring the hesitant quality of their first kiss. But this time, Clarke didn’t pull away. Instead she kissed Lexa harder, her nervousness replaced by intent. It was a relief for Lexa to feel it, to be given the confirmation that Clarke wanted this just as badly as she did.

Still cautious, Lexa let Clarke set their pace. Her body relaxed into Clarke’s hands as they skimmed her sides and back, massaging her through her clothes. Lexa could feel her body lighting up in response, eagerly anticipating Clarke’s touches.

Clarke’s kisses lessened gradually, until she drew back from Lexa altogether. She rested her forehead against Lexa’s without meeting her gaze, allowing them both a moment to catch their breath.

“How are you feeling?” Lexa asked softly.

“Good,” Clarke answered. Her thumbs rubbed circles on Lexa’s lower back. “Maybe a bit impatient.”

“Impatient?”

“Yeah.”

Clarke glanced down at Lexa’s body meaningfully.

“Is this what you want?” Lexa asked, wanting to be as clear as she could.

“It is,” Clarke said. “I want you. And I want the heart you bury beneath _Heda_.”

“I will never stop being _Heda_ for my people,” Lexa said quickly. “If you’re expecting that, then-”

“I’m not,” Clarke clarified. “I want all of you. As long as you’re willing to take all of me.”

“I am,” Lexa said.

“All of me?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Clarke smiled, tightening her grip on Lexa’s waist.

“Now, where were we?”

-

Clarke’s bedroom was not lit by fire, but by a small light encased in glass. It was warm to touch, but didn’t burn like fire. Lexa peered at it curiously while she and Clarke lay in bed together, catching their breath. The Sky People’s camp was always filled with curious things. She had seen lights like this before, in this settlement and near Mount Weather, but never up close.

“You’ll hurt your eyes if you keep starting at it,” Clarke commented.

“What is it?”

“A light-bulb. Raven and Monty have been working to get more solar panels fixed up and working again. It takes the heat from the sun, and turns it into power, which runs through wires and becomes light.”

Lexa squinted. “How do you make something like this?”

“With parts we’ve taken from Mount Weather,” Clarke answered, a clear tone of regret in her voice.

Lexa nodded. She was growing more and more grateful for things from the Sky People’s culture that Clarke shared with her. It made her want to share her world with Clarke in turn.

“Come with me to Polis,” she breathed. “There are things I want to show you.”

“Eventually,” Clarke said. “There’s some tension in our settlement right now. I won’t be able to leave for a while.”

Lexa hummed in understanding, bringing her head down to kiss Clarke’s collarbone.

“Here,” Clarke said. “Watch this.”

She reached over to the light, to the long cord that ran from its base and into the wall. When she grabbed a small shape in the middle of the cord and pressed it, the light disappeared, leaving only afterimages hovering in the dark above them. But Clarke was still there, her warm and calloused hands pulling Lexa back down to the mattress for another kiss.

 

 

  
**  
Year 5  
**

The sun was almost set by the time they reached Polis. Lexa had encouraged their group to keep going, claiming it would be better to find a place to stay once they reached Polis than to set up camp where they were. Clarke felt unsteady, traveling in the dark, but she decided to trust Lexa. They traveled on through the forests, their horses keeping a slow and lilting pace. Around them, the forest was stained pink and purple from the fading light of the sun. It was beautiful, but Clarke was tired. They had been traveling for weeks, with only one brief stop at the Grounder's farming village where Lita still lived. Her body was eager for rest.

By the time Clarke reached the edge of the forest, Lexa had already dismounted her horse. The rough path they had followed through the woods was widening into something more defined, leading forwards down into a valley.

Clarke stepped down from her horse as well and walked forward to join Lexa. Lexa glanced back over her shoulder, smiling when she saw Clarke. She pointed ahead to their destination.  
Polis.

The city lit up the night like a beacon, torches brightening up the streets and the buildings that lined the streets with their amber. It was beautiful. And much larger than Clarke had expected, with unreal buildings that reached up into the sky, looking startling like the pictures of cities Clarke had seen in books and on screens when she was a child learning about the history of Earth. They must have survived from before the war.

Clarke’s arms wrapped around Lexa from behind, pulling their bodies together. Lexa shifted her stance to accommodate Clarke, putting her own arms over Clarke’s to secure their hold. She whispered something, but the sound was lost to the wind.

“What was that?” Clarke asked.

Lexa smiled, and repeated: “We’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Thank you for such a great prompt. It was my first time writing for the 100, but as you can see, I really got into it. I would have loved to write an additional 10k, but I didn't have time (and that probably would have been too self-indulgent). I hope you enjoyed reading it!
> 
> 2\. I had a lot of fun with world-building. I expect there are errors, and things that will be proved completely wrong by Season 3, but I did do some general research on wilderness survival to guide me. I really wanted to include a scene of Clarke being grossed by a Grounder (Lexa?) eating bugs, but oh well. Another time.


End file.
